Taking Advantage
by Linaritara
Summary: Rory is gone, and the Doctor has a wedding ring in his pocket. In fact, the girl whose hand it fits is on his ship... Anything could happen, and it probably will. Name has been changed from 'Twinge of Advantage', and this is finally COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

The Doctor poked his head from out of the TARDIS's doorway.

"Looks green and wet. Are you sure you want to visit, Amy?"

Amy emerged from behind the Doctor, smiling gleefully.

"Anywhere is better than Nankatar, Doctor. I had to wear a bikini in the shade! It's unnatural."

She walked further, looking around at the towering trees, purple and blue-leafed, with sunlight filtering weakly through their thick boughs. There were yellow and red flowers as tall as the Doctor scattered about, and moist, spongy ground the color of Earth-grass. Amy sighed happily.

The Doctor watched from the door of his TARDIS, ready to paste on a smile if she turned around. When she walked out of sight, he breathed a sigh of relief. The last few days had been a nightmare, after Rory had died. The Doctor found it hard to believe that Amy had forgotten him so easily. They were going to be married, after all! Seems like you wouldn't forget true love...

But, he supposed, the fabric of the universe could overcome love. And for once, horrible temporal rips and rifts might have put something in his favour...He shook his head furiously, trying to push away any thoughts of him and Amy. His Amy.

It wasn't fair, he thought furiously to himself as he followed Amy. Rory seemed to be very dead, and very gone, and very forgotten. So what was the problem? Why couldn't he try his luck at courting the beautiful, fiery, Scottish girl without feeling terribly guilty?

Once again, the universe was conspiring against him, in the form of making sure he had no discernible love life. Oh, duplicate Doctors could be happy, could go live with Rose and have nine children and live to be a hundred. But could normal Doctors? No, of course not.

His previous incarnation would've jumped into the Master's arms quite willingly, but he'd had to lose the Master not once, but twice. And even after that, he could've loved Jack, despite the wrongness that the man exuded. But Jack had other plans, so the Doctor had let go of that too. And now, he had Amy, and the damn guilt he was feeling made it impossible to act on his love!

The Doctor almost walked straight into Amy's back, so caught up in his own thoughts was he.

"Pond?" he said, peering around her to see what it was that held her gaze.

"Crikey!" The Doctor jumped in surprise. The biggest bullfrog he'd ever seen was sitting on a rock in front of Amy. It was probably twice the size of his head, and bright blue to boot.

"It's staring straight at me, Doctor." Amy said, sounded a little frightened.

"Just back away slowly, and, err, don't break eye contact. Or maybe you should, I can never remember."

"Oh, a fat lot of good that is," Amy replied in annoyance, as she started to walk backwards. The Doctor gently took her arm to guide her around the rocks and huge flowers and what-not. By the time he reached the TARDIS he didn't want to let go.

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

"You've got my arm,"

"So I have, Pond, so I have. I'll just be giving that back to you, then..."

He escaped into the TARDIS, ears feeling like they were on fire. Nine hundred years, and it never seemed to get easier. Maybe it hadn't been guilt holding him back, maybe it was his own dignity.

"Doctor, what's this?"

Amy walked in, holding a familiar little box...Oh God no, please God no...

"Is this yours? Who are you proposing to?"

He gulped.

"Where'd you find that?"

"It fell out of your pocket when you ran in here, you sort of jostled against the door. And nice dodging, but you still haven't answered my question. Who's it for?"

Now she was going to remember Rory, and his chance would be gone forever because she'd mourn him for forty years, or insist that they go rescue him and get themselves killed in the process, or...A tiny voice whispered in his head, _'_You don't have to lose this one, you know. It's your turn to be happy."

In the split second before he could change his mind, the Doctor blurted "You!"

"Me?" Amy looked suspicious, and happy, at the same time. Hope bristled in the Doctor's chest.

"I picked it up awhile ago, when you weren't looking." The Doctor lied, feeling a tiny flash of guilt, but he ignored it.

"So are you proposing?"

"Well," the Doctor would've wanted more time and a more romantic place than the control room of the TARDIS, but dash it all, because he can see a sunrise in sight.

"Yes, absolutely." He lifted the box out of her hand, went down on one knee.

"Amelia Pond, will you marry me?"

"Hmm." Her eyebrows raised and she grinned. "Would I be Amelia Doctor? Mrs. The Doctor?"

"Only if you want to be," he answered, and then his heart soared as she smiled happily.

"Yes! I thought you'd never ask..."

In the ensuing lightness and chatter about weddings and celebratory jammy dodgers, the Doctor felt a twinge of guilt. But only a twinge.


	2. The Morning After

Amelia Pond looked fantastic in white. In fact, the Doctor thought, one might even go so far as to say she looked magnificent.

"You look magnificent!" he said loudly, and Amy grinned at him, full of happiness, excitement, and three quarters of a bottle of champagne. She toasted him with a half full glass, and her alcohol levels went up to a whole bottle.

"And you," Amy said, sauntering closer to him, backing him towards the wall of the console room, "look pretty..."

"Pretty!" the Doctor exclaimed indignantly, and she laughed.

"Pretty handsome, stupid. Now," she half purred, and the Doctor could've sworn that she was nearly glowing with... arousal, maybe? "if I recall correctly, we're married now. I don't suppose Time Lords have any other special skills besides looking pretty?"

Fourteen hours later, a rather disheveled looking Doctor emerged from his bedroom, with an added springiness to his usually springy step. He hummed a few bars of some song that wouldn't be written for millions of years, as he walked happily into the console room. There his good mood was blown straight away, by the TARDIS.

The TARDIS was very unhappy. She had liked Rory, she coldly informed the Doctor, and it seemed an absolute betrayal of his trust that the Doctor and Amy had... well, she went through quite a list of things that they had done, and shouldn't have. Not to mention the fact that the Doctor hadn't even bothered to follow the current Earth wedding traditions.

"Oi, what ones did I not do?" he asked, feeling slightly put out. A blast of disapproval from the TARDIS was more effective than a cold shower, and that was precisely what he _didn't_ need.

Flower girls, and the proper wedding march song, the TARDIS said snippily. The Doctor countered that forty-fifth century Baktarian wedding songs were absolutely proper for two time travelers getting married. And who needed flower girls?

Flower girls, the TARDIS replied, were a sign of fertility and bloom in the marriage, and very important. And what about 'something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue'?

"Oh, now you're just being silly, " the Doctor snapped. "You fill all four of those, as you well know. I believe you are trying to pick a fight with me , old girl. And today of all days is the worst time to do it."

Now why, the TARDIS asked faux innocently, would today be the worst day?

The Doctor halfway blushed, muttered "For Rassilon's sake!", and retreated back to his - and Amy's room. He only turned once to shout "And stay out of the bedroom!"

As the Doctor walked in, he could've sworn he heard the TARDIS laugh.


	3. China Doll

**To all who have been reading, reviewing and favouriting, thank you so much! I feel like I owe you all a warning, though, that this isn't turning out to be a story with the happy ending it seemed to have. Those of you who ship the Doctor and Amy may want to turn back now, because the TARDIS is doing her level best to break them up, and I'm not too good at stopping her (and I'll admit that I'm not terribly inclined to, either). Again, thanks to all of you still following this, and especially those of you who will still continue to read this despite the above warning. - Linaritara**

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><p><em>China Doll<em>

"Can't we please have a whole one?"

The Doctor was sitting mournfully in the TARDIS kitchen, looking at Amy as she rummaged through the cupboards.

"Doctor, I told you, two weeks is a whole honeymoon. And we had that. Honestly, I never thought you wouldn't want to go adventuring..."

Amy's voice trailed off as she stuck her head into one of the cupboards, and then her torso. Apparently they were bigger on the inside.

"Not according to the Oxford Dictionary!" The Doctor replied, only semi-aware that he was sounding like a child trying to get his way.

Amy wrenched herself out of the cupboard, and shouted in triumph.

"Ah ha! I knew we had some biscuits left! God knows why the TARDIS buried them all the way back there, though,"

The Doctor looked away, guiltily. He knew exactly why the biscuits were so hard to get, and it was the same explanation for the hot water running short, and the temperature being freezing every morning. His ship was trying to break the Doctor and Amy up.

It was, frankly, a bit worrisome. The TARDIS was occasionally in a bad mood, but this had gone beyond grumpiness, it was full-fledged mutiny.

"Semantics, semantics," Amy replied, and the Doctor looked up, startled.

"What?"

"Your 'dictionary' excuse. It's the third time you've used it today, and I'm even less convinced than before. Come on, Doctor! We've not done any traveling since the wedding! I'll go stir crazy if we don't go save a planet or two soon!"

The Doctor sighed. "It's just...I don't want to see you get hurt, Amy. It terrifies me, the thought that a stray javelin, or bolt of energy could kill you, and you'd be gone! Just like that, no regenerations or second chances. You humans are so fragile..."

Within seconds Amy was standing in front of him, looking thunderous.

"What, you think I'm some sort of china doll, Doctor? Is that it?"

No, the Doctor wanted to protest, no, but I'm scared, and your Scottish stubbornness isn't helping.

"I'm just worried." He said, finally, feeling that it wasn't enough, but it was as good as he could get. "Just a bit worried."

He didn't say that he had dreams, almost every night, of popping along to some crisis with Amy, and it all went smashingly until Amy got killed or was kidnapped, and then he was left by himself, all alone, again. And it scared him so badly that maybe, just maybe, he was seeing the future.

Amy huffed in exasperation, then bent down and kissed him, softly.

"It'll be fine. I'll be fine," she murmured against his mouth, and he put aside the worries that plagued him, just for a bit, and went off with Amy, because sometimes nightmares can be chased away, if only for a little.


	4. She Won't Ever Look At Me

_I seem to have developed a plot that wasn't planned on in the least when this started. Which means that the original oneshot is looking to be a seven or eight chapter story. Possibly longer. This particular chapter is dedicated to my friend Amanda, who is graduating from college today. Wish I could be there. The title of the chapter comes from another Elliott Smith song with the same name. Thanks to all who have read and reviewed and alerted, it makes my day to see it. Enjoy! Also, does anyone know of a good beta? Read and review, or don't. ~ Linara_

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><p><strong>She Won't Ever Look At Me<strong>

It was late at night. Amy was sleeping, and the Doctor was hiding deep in the TARDIS. As far away as possible from the console room. He was, in fact, in the wardrobe, surrounded by hundreds of outfits that he had worn in previous regenerations, and would wear in future ones. Curled up next to a box of fezzes and red Converse, crying.

Yes, the Doctor was crying. He hated fighting with the TARDIS, with the ship that had been his only companion for many lonely years, and had helped him through so many scrapes that they couldn't be counted on both hands, not even the hands of the Draxil on Ferith-7, where every Draxil had two hundred digits on each of their sixty-four appendages.

Sobs slipped silently from him, because he didn't want Amy hearing. She had a tendency to tell when he was angry or sad, and be able to find him.

Thinking of Amy sent him into a fresh round of tears that soaked his jacket and pooled in one of the fezzes that was strangely waterproof. After several minutes, or possibly hours, the Doctor wiped away the moisture covering his face, and sat up, propping himself against a massive, green wool sweater with a large W on the front. He hadn't the faintest idea why it was there, but it was hideous.

He couldn't keep fixated on the sweater for long, though. Soon he was thinking about the day, and what had brought on the recent bout of fighting with his ship.

_It had been a nice morning, and Amy had persuaded him to take her to a spa. She was, she insisted, letting herself go. The Doctor had no idea what she was talking about, his wife looked just as beautiful as usual, but he'd gone and set the coordinates anyway, to a 48th century Nardonian retreat. It had the double advantage of being the best spa in the Sharkalish Galaxy, as well as hosting lectures on space/time continuums._

_After getting Amy a full day relaxation course, he'd headed off for what promised to be a fascinating lecture on fixed points in space and time, given by Professor Xanaxaarius, a system-renowned researcher in his field. It had all gone brilliantly, until the professor began to discuss the effects of 'breaking' the points, or ignoring them, erasing them. The result was almost always a paradox that could devour whole planets, systems, galaxies, even...universes._

_"It depends on the importance of the point," the professor had said. "Of course all points are important, else they wouldn't be fixed, but some are of a smaller magnitude then others, in their timeline and residence."_

_It was then that the Doctor began to think about the glimpses he'd had of his own timeline. The Time Lord had gulped as he recalled just how large a role Rory had played in some of those future events. Events that _he_ had disrupted by marrying Amy. Would his present happiness cause the universe to be swallowed by a paradox?_

_He'd tried futilely to calm himself, reminding his mind that what he had seen was only a possibility, not the set in stone future. Which was when the TARDIS had jumped into the fight._

_She'd insisted that she had seen parts of his timeline as well, and that Rory had to be in it for it to progress past a certain point._

_Meaning, the Doctor had said to her in annoyance, that he keeps me from being killed. Ridiculous. He's just a _human.

_Then they'd really started laying into each other. The TARDIS had responded by saying that he'd been saved plenty of times by humans - Rose being a perfect example. _

_Don't bring her into this, the Doctor had said angrily. _

_I'll bring in whoever I please, until you realize that you've done something, are doing something wrong, the TARDIS had replied airily._

_And then..._

The Doctor shuddered, now, to think of what he'd said after that, luckily psychically, or the good people of Nardonia might've locked him up in an institution. Or shot him, that was the usual way they dealt with such things.

In the end, the only thing keeping the TARDIS and the Doctor from fighting for the rest of the day was the question and answer part of the lecture. The Doctor couldn't help but debate with Professor Xanaxaarius about some of his (incorrect) theories. But he'd still been angry with his ship, and she knew it.

Which was why, after bringing Amy back to the TARDIS, and to bed, he'd crawled away to the room farthest from where her main consciousness was. The console. Because he couldn't stand the waves of disapproval/anger/sadness/disappointment/determination that were emanating from her. Even now, hours later, they were still strong.

The Doctor knew, in his hearts, that things would come to a head soon. The quiet acts of rebellion had ceased, and a larger defiance was looming. He wanted so desperately to cuddle up with Amy, and lose himself with her, but that would mean having to explain why his eyes were embarrassingly red, and why he tasted of tears and sadness (Amy insisted that she could taste his emotions, when they were strong. He had no idea why, maybe it was a Scottish thing).

So he stayed, curled up in the wardrobe. The past, the present and the future, crowded together. Little did hapless present know that the three would soon meet again, although it would happen on a much bigger, more destructive scale. In the console room, the TARDIS mourned and brooded and planned. She knew what had to be done, for her Doctor to make it in the long run. Even if it broke his hearts.

And in a large, soft bed, with dark blue sheets, Amy Pond slept, unknowing, and innocently unsuspecting of the storm brewing on the horizon.


	5. Fezzes? AnyoneAnyoneDoctor?

I'm extremely sorry that there's been such a long wait, especially since the new chapter is pretty short, but I hope to have a new chapter up within the week. To avoid any confusion, the first section is from Ten's perspective, the second is from Eleven's. Please read and review ~ Linaritara

The Doctor stood up, brushed down his pinstripe suit, and grinned, for practice. Then he wiped away the few tell-tale drops of moisture that littered the skin beneath his eyes. He was not going to show up and say his farewells with tears on his face. He sighed, and walked over to the console, feeling weaker by the second. Holding off the regeneration process was never wise, but he had to say goodbye, he owed it to Sarah Jane, and Jack, and all the others. And, although the Doctor didn't want to admit it, he wanted to go out with some recent happy memories.

It was selfish, so selfish, but right now all he could see was the Master's small smile as he sacrificed himself for the world, for the Doctor. And damn, that smile cut like a knife.

He began to search through the TARDIS memory banks, to see where Sarah Jane was currently, when a loud pop sounded through the room. He turned to see a man dressed in a tweed suit, with floppy hair, a large chin, and yellow glowing eyes that looked oddly familiar and...was...the Doctor's mind began to race as he registered the sound of four heartbeats in the console room. And only two belonged to him.

It was too much to hope for, and he didn't know how it could've happened but just maybe...

"Master?" he asked hesitantly, not breathing as he waited for a response.

The man's eyes widened, and he looked oddly sympathetic for a moment. "No, sorry, I'm not him." The Doctor's hearts cracked a little more, and he nearly sighed again, than remembered the intruder in his TARDIS.

"Than who are you?"

"I'm you," said the stranger, looked oddly delighted. "Not you now, of course, but you from the future. Your future."

"My future..." the Doctor echoed, incredulous. "I don't think-"

"Look, I haven't got much time, bad things are happening, but I need you to do something for me."

~~~

The Doctor picked himself up from the floor of the wardrobe room, nearly tripping over the box of fezzes. He found himself wondering how a fez might look on him, and he was just reaching out to take one from the box when something popped right in front of him, wearing an achingly familiar pinstripe suit.

"What?" He snapped the word out, because he didn't know why his past decided to come here, but chances were it had something to do with-

"Amy." His old self spoke that one word, and the Doctor straightened quickly. "You have to bring Rory back, you have to bring him back as soon as possible." The Doctor would interrupt, but there was a glint in his past's eyes that told him this was serious, this was bad.

"The TARDIS, she can feel something very wrong in the timelines, and she's going to try and fix it, put things right, but you know how she is, doesn't know how to control her energy, and if you don't stop her then chances are she'll rip a hole in the universe, or accidentally erase a species, or stars know what!"

The Doctor stared at him, then nodded.

"How do you know all this?" he asked, as he noted the torn suit, and the nearly invisible artron energy spinning around his past self, constantly healing something.

"You told me." His past replied, than disappeared with a pop. The Doctor wondered why he didn't remember any of this, he should've, but there were more important things to do, like figure out how he was going to bring back Rory - quite unexpectedly, someone else appeared in the room, blocking the doorway. Himself, oddly enough.

"Amy's about to do something really, really stupid. Console room, now."

Without another word, his double disappeared, and the Doctor set off at a dead run across the TARDIS, hoping, praying he would make it in time.


	6. Fixit Tickets and a Radiohead Song

Quite unexpectedly, we have come to the conclusion of this mutated monster of a one-shot. Yep, this is the last chapter. Special thanks to xmngrl who reviewed _twice_, and Arik, the anonymous reviewer whose words encouraged me to continue writing. I'm also very grateful for the dozens of people who have reviewed/favorited/alerted on both Teaspoon and during the 2 1/2 months it took me to finish this. I hope you enjoy the finale to Taking Advantage.

_Linaritara_

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><p><em>"Amy's about to do something really, really stupid. Console room, now."<em>

_Without another word, his double disappeared, and the Doctor set off at a dead run across the TARDIS, hoping, praying he would make it in time._

As the Doctor sprinted through the seemingly endless corridors of his ship, his mind struggled to come up with some scenarios that might be playing themselves out in the console room. In the three minutes it took him to traverse the TARDIS, he failed to think of one dire enough to cause a future version of him to break all sorts of time-travelling rules, and come warn him.

He skidded to a stop right in front of the stairs to the deck, and the Doctor realised he could never have thought of something as terrible as what he saw happening right in front of him.

It felt like the worst sort of déjà vu. Someone, somehow, had bared the TARDIS's core, opened the door to her soul. Golden light filtered out of her, lighting the otherwise dark room. Amy stood in the midst of the light, and the Doctor saw with a horrible shock that it was beginning to twine itself around her, in the same way he imagined it had done to Rose.

There was little time to act, let alone think, so he rushed up the stairs, and tackled Amy, sending them both flying across the deck. She made a sound of surprise as he kissed her, quickly and with absolutely no finesse at all.

Suddenly, his blood tingled with _power_, rushing through his veins, and the Doctor closed his eyes, and _saw._

_The whole of time and space stretched around him, and his fingers itched to pull and push its fabric. He glanced to the right, and watched the TARDIS whisper into Amy's dreams, waking her from sleep and sending her to the console room. He felt the TARDIS's thoughts as she manipulated Amy, the sadness and the iron-clad determination. He pushed back further, and all of a sudden his whole _being_ thrummed with a sick feeling, a wrongness far worse than Jack. The feeling continued as he saw himself give the ring to Amy, as they travelled and laughed and kissed and-_

_A hand landed impossibly on his shoulder. He turned to see a woman, tall, stately, and with a quiet pity playing on her features. _

_"Hullo, old girl," he said to the TARDIS._

_"My Doctor," she replied, shaking her head. "My poor, lonely Doctor. You've been so foolish."_

_He scowled defensively, as her words sunk in. "I didn't know that Rory-"_

_A glimpse of a not-yet memory flashed before his eyes, and he added "That the Pandorica would need Rory. I didn't realise it was a fixed point."_

_The TARDIS looked at him, just _looked_ at him, and he sighed._

_"I didn't want to be alone." he admitted. The truth was, finally, accepted by himself. He had tried to convince his mind more then a few times that he _loved_ Amy, that they were happy together, that-_

_'Rubbish,' his mind would always reply, and he'd pushed it down every time, because to admit to being so...desolate, would be to admit defeat. And it would be the first step in trying to undo the events of the Time War._

_"I know, Doctor. Your dreams speak for themselves," the TARDIS said quietly, and he started a bit at his ship rummaging through his dreams. Some things were best left unknown to all but the dreamer..._

_"But you will find someone, Doctor, I can see it. Look," the TARDIS commanded, and he did._

_A lifetimes worth of memories filled with love, laughter, and - was that a baby? - bombarded him, and he was overwhelmed with a feeling of happiness. Of contentment, and _rightness_ so strong that it made his hearts ache._

_"When?" he managed to gasp out, and the TARDIS smiled a mysterious, playful smile. _

_"Soon enough," she replied, which was very little of an answer and more of a riddle, but it satisfied the Doctor for now. "Soon enough."_

_He smiled, and then glanced at the snarled strings of time that signified his marriage to Amy._

_"I suppose I've got a bit of a mess to work out, right?" _

_The TARDIS looked at him again with a single arched eyebrow, then disappeared. That was answer enough._

It was a shock to be back in the now, after seeing _everything_, but the Doctor could still feel the power of the TARDIS in him, and for once he was unafraid to wield it.

A hop to the past, to inform his tenth regeneration of the TARDIS's plot, and then two fingers to the forehead of said regeneration to transport him to the future and back.. A wave of his hand, and his even lonelier old self forgot everything that had just happened. Then a five minute skip to his bewildered current regeneration, standing in the wardrobe room, and finally, a little meddling to ensure Rory Williams was chosen as a template for one of the plastic soldier, in the past-future of 102 A.D.

The Doctor looked down at Amy. She was still lying on the floor of the deck, frozen in time along with everything else but him, and looking surprised and Scottish and so full of _Amy_. He felt rather sad as he closed his eyes, and concentrated very carefully. Suddenly, the ring on her finger disappeared, and he felt the small box in his pocket once again.

In a thought that was insultingly easy and terribly hard in the same moment, he erased their marriage, and everything that had come of it. The Doctor let out a shuddery breath, and a tear slipped gently down his cheek as he thought of all he had just lost, and all he would gain. He blew the TARDIS's soul right back in to her, and the resulting dizziness sent him crashing onto the floor right next to Amy.

She gasped in a sudden breath, and everything went back to how it was supposed to be.

"Alright, Pond?" he asked, striving to reach a casual tone.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What happened?" she asked, pushing herself off the floor.

"Just a miniature time storm in the Vortex, nothing to be worried about," he said, doing the same.

He looked at the console. The script was in his head now, and it was up to him to make sure everyone said their lines right.

"There's this museum I think you might like," he said. "I've got quite a few trophies there. Like to check it out?"

"Sure, let's go for it." Amy replied cheerfully. She glanced at him with a puzzled look on her face. "Are _you_ okay, Doctor?"

"I'll be fine," he said, setting the co-ordinates. "I'll be quite fine."

The TARDIS hummed happily.

_Finis_.


End file.
